Sanity in Three Easy Steps
by Rehime
Summary: Maybe he had those dreams because he cared too much. [postAC one shot, CloTi with a flavoring of Cleris]


Standard disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of the several children it has spawned.

Pairings: Cloud x Tifa, with acknowledged Cloud x Aeris because it's just as legit a pairing. Set post Advent Children.

:o:o:

Sanity in Three Easy Steps  
by Talim-Hime

Cloud placed a hand on Tifa's rising stomach in amazement.

There was no elongated blade shooting through her stomach, and in consequence, there wasn't the warm, horrific stain of blood on his hand. Her eyes were closed, but they were pulsing gently with sleep, not in pain. She was limp because she was tired, not because she was dead.

Cloud was reminded that no matter how vivid one's nightmares become, they did not necessarily become reality.

Cloud rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with one hand while trying to find balance with the other, gently pushing on Tifa to do so. She furrowed her brow unconsciously.

Their bed was a mess, and so were they – it had been one hell of a day. The bar had seen a rough night of drunks and tough guys, and Cloud had been late in delivering several packages, resulting in angry customers and light revenue.

And that nightmare hadn't helped at all.

Cloud bent over in exhausted agony to remove his boots and vest while giving his nightmare a deeper analysis. Long hours on SHM-free roads had given him time to think about a new way to cope with these nightmares, rather than the time-tested tradition of running away from it. Tifa insisted it was a better solution, at any rate.

And when she clenched her fists, he'd rather not argue.

Step one: Admitting things he'd rather not.

He wasn't going to fool himself. The blade he had seen in his nightmare was Sephiroth's.

All right, he had admitted that much. Step one was behind him.

He felt more comfortable now after relieving himself of excess clothing, but a nervous thrill kept shooting through his body. Years of fighting do that to a person. Cloud surveyed the untidy room for anything out of the ordinary.

Random articles of clothing, shoes without a pair, and important financial documents of both the bar and the delivery service lay scattered around.

Just the way they had left it.

So it was on to step two: try to find something different, something new with this nightmare than the ones he used to have.

The nightmare may have had Sephiroth's blade in it, but not the man himself. That had to be something significant, right?

"Right?" Cloud muttered his first word since awakening with a hoarse voice. Tifa was too deeply asleep to reply.

Step three: see if any progress toward sanity was made.

The blade had gone through Tifa's stomach, and retracted with that same, cruel slowness Cloud remembered. But this time, the blade had torn through a black vest, not a pink dress.

However alarming this sounded, it was progress.

In the nightmares before Kadaj and his brothers had shown up, Cloud could not for the life of him differentiate from Tifa and Aeris in his nightmares.

They blended together, and his love became ensnared with them. Their faces lost specific attributes – brown eyes and green eyes mattered little on faces that blended and shifted to confuse Cloud's troubled heart. The dress was pink, now black, and then it wasn't a dress at all anymore – it became a vest and a black waitress apron, and black and white sneakers. Cloud always tried lunging for them (her?), always missing and seeing brown hair whip past his vision, first long in a plait and then suddenly much darker, and short and loose.

And Sephiroth's blade tore through all of it.

In Cloud's nightmares, their fate had become one and the same.

But nowadays, Tifa had the right of being her own person in his nightmares. She wasn't praying in the Forgotten City, she was sleeping on their bed. Though she was unaware of her fate, she had her own body, her own clothing. Her face was undeniably hers.

Cloud had loved two women. And that's really how it should be. Two different women, two different fates.

Two loves, and one was sleeping at his side. The other sat in her otherworldly field of flowers.

Aeris was sorely missed. But why should he sorely miss Tifa too? She was here, and waiting. And the nightmares – maybe they weren't prophesies after all.

Maybe he had those dreams because he cared too much.

Which was just fine with him.

Cloud crashed back down on his bed, and the impact made Tifa jerk awake.

"Eh – aw, man, Cloud! I had a tough day! Who knew bars spawned alcoholics?"

He smiled.

"Sorry."

"Hmph," she replied, but she chuckled when Cloud's arms wrapped around her waist, bringing her closer. She turned on her side and kissed him quickly on the lips. She was about to turn back, before she realized Cloud had removed that pesky vest.

She snuggled closer, and got a bit of a thrill when she felt him become warm under her cheek.

"Sweet dreams," she murmured.

Cloud gently nudged his face into her hair. She felt a warm kiss before he responded.

"I'll try. Can't help what I dream, though."

"Cloud Strife, you are one crazy guy, you know that?"

"Yes, I know," Cloud replied with smugness, and he smiled as he felt Tifa smother a knowing laugh against his chest.


End file.
